


3 hours 48 minutes

by Bearixt



Series: A[(5+1)/2]! [1]
Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Fluff and Humor, Found Family, Friendship, Gen, Minagi Tsuzuru Passes Out In This One
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:15:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23561425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bearixt/pseuds/Bearixt
Summary: “Slumber parties are nice, ne? We can give Tsuzuru sleeping pills so he can slumber while we party!”“Yeah— not! What is with you guys and your parties?!” Izumi resists the temptation to tear her hair out. “I feel like the only person who can organize anormalparty here is Kazunari-kun.”“Wow, are you falling for me already, Izumi-chan?”She’s taking back what she said earlier. “I don’t even know how you came to that conclusion.”“Harsh! But I got you, fam. One Kazunari Miyoshi special birthday party for Tsuzuroon, comin’ right up!”-Five times the Mankai peeps think of Tsuzuru, and one time he thinks of them.
Relationships: MANKAI Company & Minagi Tsuzuru, Minagi Tsuzuru & Miyoshi Kazunari
Series: A[(5+1)/2]! [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1695841
Comments: 20
Kudos: 88





	3 hours 48 minutes

**Author's Note:**

> I can’t believe the relationship tags I just used are not common yet. Kazu & Tsuzu, really? (EDIT: We did it, fellas. The relationship tags are now common. Hoorah! That’s two down, more to go…)
> 
> Anyway, happy birthday to my kami oshi, Tsuzuru! It might not be April 9 in Japan anymore, but it’s still April 9 somewhere.
> 
> Thanks to Nikki for doing some wild, last-minute beta! So much thanks to Chin, too, for the beta and help with descriptions!
> 
> Set in Act 1. 🖊️

**One.**

Izumi arrives at the dorm, humming a tune from an old series she used to watch when she was a kid.

_I snagged a great deal today! I wonder what kind of curry I should make for dinner tonight. Maybe seafood?_

Still humming, she transfers all the grocery bags to her left hand and uses her right hand to open the door.

“I’m home— wait, who’s lying on the floor?!”

She drops the bags and rushes toward the lump. After kneeling down, she carefully turns the man around and… sighs. Of course. Who else could it be?

“How many times do I have to tell you to sleep properly?” Izumi mutters as she glares at the sleeping face of Tsuzuru. Who probably was on a writing binge again. Seriously, this guy.

She better move him to the couch though. The floor can’t be that comfortable. She wraps one of his arms around her shoulders and… yeah, nope, she really needs to get in shape. She should ask for help, but no one seems to be around—

“Wassup! Kazunari Miyoshi has arrived!”

Izumi turns around. “Kazunari-kun! Good timing. Help me here.”

“Izumi-chan?” Kazunari slightly tilts his head before shifting his gaze from Izumi’s face and toward, well, Tsuzuru’s hair, probably. “Oh! Tsuzuroon passed out again?”

Izumi nods as he approaches them and wraps Tsuzuru’s other arm around his shoulder. Together, they bring Tsuzuru to the lounge and drops him on the couch.

“There. Thanks, Kazunari-kun.” Wow, Tsuzuru didn’t even stir at all. He must’ve been really tired.

“No prob! Hold on.” Kazunari skips back to the dorm entrance and comes back to the lounge in a flash. “Izumi-chan, you left this,” he says, bringing up the bags of groceries.

“Right. I forgot. Thanks again. I’ll take them,” Izumi replies and brings out her hands.

Kazunari shakes his head. “I can do it. I mean, just gotta put these in the cabinet or in the fridge, right? Easy peasy! Just chill with Tsuzuroon there, yeah?”

After saying that, he moves to the kitchen and unloads the bags. Izumi shouldn’t be surprised by Kazunari’s thoughtfulness, but it’s sometimes easy to forget that he is more than his slangs and attempts at wooing her. She watches him as she settles down on the couch opposite of the one their playwright occupies.

Oh, speaking of. “Hey, Kazunari-kun?”

Kazunari stands up after putting something in the fridge and makes a questioning sound. He starts to wrap the empty plastic bags.

“Has he always been like this?”

“Eh? Who?”

“Tsuzuru-kun. You’ve known him since high school, right?”

“Where should I put these plastic bags?”

“Huh? Ah, you should see a small bin there on the side. No, not that one. The small green— yeah. That’s it.”

When he is finished, Kazunari sits down beside her. “Yep and nope?” he says, making Izumi rack her brain for the question he’s supposed to be answering. “Like, yeah, he kinda doesn’t always get enough sleep. Ya know, his part-times and lil bros and stuff.”

Ah, _that_ question. “No, because?” she prompts.

“Because it’s actually for himself this time!”

_What?_

“‘Cuz, like, he doesn’t sleep much since he makes these _really_ rad scripts. And he really wanna be a playwright. So.”

_Uh, again, what?_

“He’s not sacrificin’ sleep just for his fam and all that!”

 _Ah._ “I guess I understand. But still, can’t he write them on a normal schedule?”

“’m pretty sure he loves doin’ it for the company anyway. He’s the type who’s gonna be, like, bein’ in Mankai’s already the best birthday gift he’ll ever receive. But Izumi-chan…” He leans in and whispers, “I’m plannin’ to give him a cool present! It’s gonna be the bomb.”

What?! Why is Kazunari giving Tsuzuru a bomb?! And, wait. “Birthday gift?”

“Uh-huh! April 9, remember?”

Izumi takes out her phone and checks the date. “What? Next week already? Time flies so fast!”

“Yeah.” Kazunari pouts. “Not that we’re doin’ anything again this year since partying isn’t his jam.”

“O-ho?”

They turn around to see Homare and Hisoka walking from the stairs. To be more precise, Homare is walking and Hisoka, who seems to be sleeping while standing upright _how?_ , is being dragged along.

Homare takes a look at Tsuzuru and deposits their resident amnesiac beside him. “Wait a moment,” Homare says before he turns to Izumi and Kazunari. “What is it I hear about a party?”

“We were talking about Tsuzuru-kun’s birthday next week,” Izumi says. “Why did you bring Hisoka down, by the way? Is he looking for marshmallows again?”

“It is the birthday of Tsuzuru-kun so soon! A party would be marvelous, yes! As he is the brain behind the magical worlds conjured on the stage, sipping fine tea as we exuviate, reveal our inner selves, and help the playwright aim at verisimilitude…” Homare beams and splays a hand over his chest as he illustrates his talent in ignoring Izumi. “I am struck with poetic inspiration! Ah, the muses are smiling down upon me! I should have six, no, eight! I must write them all down immediately.”

“I think we have different ideas about parties here.” Izumi sighs as Homare rushes back to the stairs, passing by Citron who cheerfully greets them and sits on the other side of Izumi.

Homare just left Hisoka… Izumi chuckles. “Our two sleeping princes can really fall asleep just almost anywhere.”

“Sleeping prince?” Citron asks. “Then we must feed them apples so they can grow their hair and escape the tower!”

“That’s not even close. It’s not even Japanese!”

Kazunari laughs. “That’s a good one, Ronron!”

“But what can we do for his birthday?” Izumi mumbles.

“Slumber parties are nice, ne? We can give Tsuzuru sleeping pills so he can slumber while we party!”

“Yeah— not! What is with you guys and your parties?!” Izumi resists the temptation to tear her hair out. “I feel like the only person who can organize a _normal_ party here is Kazunari-kun.”

“Wow, are you falling for me already, Izumi-chan?”

She’s taking back what she said earlier. “I don’t even know how you came to that conclusion.”

“Harsh! But I got you, fam. One Kazunari Miyoshi special birthday party for Tsuzuroon, comin’ right up!”

_What?_

“Ronron! Wanna brainstorm with me? Your unique ideas can deffo help me out!”

“I will be glad to assist you.”

“C’mon! Let’s go to my room. Don’t want Tsuzuroon to suddenly wake up and get spoilers. See ya later, Izumi-chan!”

Izumi stares at the space Kazunari and Citron previously occupied. Then, at the wall. She stares. 

And stares.

Her brain can’t catch up yet.

She sees a movement from the corner of her eye and turns to see Hisoka stretching his arms and legs languidly. _Just like the cats hanging around the dorms sometimes,_ she thinks. “Good morning, Hisoka.”

Hisoka blinks. “… m… ng…”

“Please try to at least get a vowel out. Are you hungry?”

“No…” he sits up and stares at Tsuzuru, who is still sleeping like a log.

Aaaaaaand Hisoka has been staring for a while. Izumi clears her throat and explains, “He passed out again earlier. I think. I saw him on the floor.”

Hisoka doesn’t reply. He simply stands up and goes out to the courtyard.

Izumi leans back and stares at the ceiling this time, one word replaying like a car on a race track in her head, over and over: _Help._

The sound of the door opening jolts her out her musings, and she cranes her head to see Hisoka holding a…?

She bites her cheek as she watches Hisoka drape a blanket over Tsuzuru. Hisoka meets her eyes and nods. “… night.”

“Oh! Uh, yes. Good night.”

Izumi waits until Hisoka disappears from her sight before she stands up and walks toward Tsuzuru. She touches his shoulder, about to wake him up, but stops at the sight of his face.

_He’s smiling. He must be having a good dream._

She shakes her head and adjusts the blanket instead so that it covers him better. He doesn’t look uncomfortable. In fact, it feels like a crime to disturb him.

“Good night, Tsuzuru-kun.”

A birthday party might not be too bad.

.

.

.

**Two.**

“Not bad for a newbie.”

Banri looks up from his phone to raise a brow at Itaru, who never takes his eyes off his phone as his fingers move inhumanly across the screen.

“Thanks! Yosh, just tell me what to do, Itaru-san!” Taichi replies. “I’ll be popular in no time!”

“Don’t think too highly of yourself,” Banri says, returning his attention back to his phone. Ah, shit, that was close. He almost got hooked by the tank’s second skill. Right when they’re already so close to the enemy’s base, too.

Itaru clicks his tongue. “Banri. Don’t talk if you can’t even time your AoE right. Taichi, hide in the bush and wait for the mage to move down.”

“Tch.” “Got it!”

Banri ignores the continuous chats of their shitty other teammates since they are shit. They have the guts to complain that Itaru-san was not joining the clash and kept on roaming in the jungle. Well, yeah, fuckers, he’s an assassin. He’s just doin’ his job, unlike the ADC who keeps on initiating clashes like they’re a damn tank. Fuckin’ noobs.

Besides, who’s the one carrying the team now? Not them and their feeder asses, for sure.

And… damn. Banri totally aced that SS. “Oi, Ita—”

“On it. Taichi, go.”

Taichi goes to the middle of the frozen enemy heroes and releases another CC skill as Itaru heads straight to the enemy’s base. Banri continues to aggressively tap on his phone, intent on wiping out the entire team just in case Itaru hasn’t—

The screen pauses. The camera moves to show the crumbling base, Itaru’s character beside it.

_VICTORY - Team Taruchi  
_

“GG.” Itaru lets out a sigh and leans back on the couch as Taichi stands up to get them refreshments. “That was rougher than normal.”

“Taichi’s new at this.”

“Nope. You were the one who was dragging us down.”

Banri opens his mouth to complain because he _wasn’t_ fucking dragging anyone down, but a bottle of coke is placed in front of his face that stops him from saying it out loud. Muttering a “thanks,” he grabs the drink but doesn’t open it yet.

Taichi throws himself on the couch and takes a gulp from his own bottle. “Ah! Soda is really the best!”

Itaru hums in approval, and they start talking about junk food or something, and they are just blatantly ignoring him, and Banri is _so fucking done_ with this. 

“By the way, Itaru-san,” Taichi says, “What are you planning to give Tsuzuru-kun?”

“Eh?”

“His birthday is next week, right? Kazu-kun sent me a DM about a surprise party. Said that he was planning with Citron and stuff!”

“For real? Shit. I forgot. Ah, and Tsuzuru makes my life so easy, too,” Itaru-san says. “Thanks for the reminder, Taichi.”

Taichi beams and Yuki’s voice rings in Banri’s head. _Dumb dog._

Itaru puts his bottle on the table and opens his phone. “So, a surprise party? What are they planning to do? But if Citron’s planning with Kazunari, it can’t be anything good.”

“Not sure. Kazu-kun told me most of their plans are turned down, so…”

“Turned down? By who?”

Taichi laughs nervously. “Sakyo-nii.”

“Of course.”

“Like, even just minor decorations are shot down, ya know? Sakyo-nii is really brutal when it comes to finance!”

“I’ll pay for it.”

Itaru looks up, and the two of them finally fucking remembered that Banri exists. He rolls his eyes at the question marks he can literally see around Taichi’s head. “I said, I’ll pay for it.”

“Just casually offering to pay. Man, so cool, Ban-chan!” Taichi exclaims. “I should write this down on my list!”

Before Banri can ask about whatever list Taichi’s talking about, Muku appears from the stairs.

“You’re paying for the decorations? Waaaaa, just like a real prince!” Banri looks at the middle schooler and growls when he realizes Hyodo’s with him.

“What a good boy,” Itaru comments.

“Shut up,” Banri mutters as he finally opens his thankfully-still-cold bottle. He takes a gulp before continuing, “’s not a big deal. Just use my card and buy whatever shit you want.”

“Cakes! We should have cakes, too!" Muku turns to Hyodo and asks, “Didn’t the confectionery by the station release new flavors?”

“… dunno.”

“We should check it out! I wonder what flavor Tsuzuru-san likes? Itaru-san, do you have any idea?”

“I think Tsuzuru will like it as long as you thought of him when you bought it.”

Muku and Taichi’s eyes sparkle and Banri rolls his eyes for the umpteenth time that day, placing his bottle on the table. “Just say that you don’t know.”

“I don’t really need to unlock Tsuzuru’s special route.”

“Tsuzuru-san is really like the older brothers in shoujo manga!” Muku says. “But, oh, he doesn’t have a sister, right? Just brothers? If he has a sister, I’m sure he’ll be the type that will be really protective of her! And he will be very willing to get blood on his hands if his cute little sister…” Hyodo continues to stand awkwardly while Muku rambles on.

“I know! We can ask Omi-san to bake!” Taichi says.

That brings Muku out of his bubble. “That’s a good idea! We can have more options, too.”

And the two of them merrily chat like kids on a damn playground. Muku’s apparently about to go to another confectionery. With Hyodo of all people. The fuck is Hyodo gonna do there?

After making sure that Itaru doesn’t need his help anymore (and not that he actually needed it before), Taichi tags along with them so they can “research” what cake to bake or whatever.

The door closes. Itaru turns to him and throws an arm over the couch. “You sure about paying for all that? Though I’ll pitch in, too. Can’t really help in decorating so might as well contribute financially.”

“Yeah. ‘sides,” Banri starts, avoiding Itaru’s piercing stare. “Still haven’t said ‘m sorry to him yet.”

“Hmm?”

“Told him that I can do his job and finish the script in a day when he was writing The Roman Episode.”

“Ouch. -5 charisma.”

“Yeah, yeah, it wasn’t my proudest moment, alright?” Banri rakes his fingers through his hair. “I mean, I’m me, so I probably _can_ finish it in a day. Doubt it’d be as good as what he did though.”

“True. Can’t half-ass it like you did with your portrait. Your script will probably feel fake.”

“Don’t just agree like that! And I don’t wanna hear that from you!”

“You’re not even half as good as watching and understanding other people as Tsuzuru is.” Itaru chuckles. “But I guess it’s something you get better at as you grow older.”

There is something going on here, some underlying message that Banri can’t figure out. He narrows his eyes. “The hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing ~” Itaru breaks eye contact to look at his phone. “Oh, my SP’s recharged.”

He stands up and ignores Banri when he repeated his question. Never leaving his eyes off the phone, he says, “BRB. I’ll just wire you the money later.”

Ugh. No point in trying to get answers out of him now when he’s already this engrossed in his game. “You sure you won’t rather spend your money on gacha?”

“Nah. While I don’t need Tsuzuru’s special route, levelling up our Social Link’s a good idea since we’re in the same troupe.”

Banri waits for—

“My best girl’s not included in this event anyway.”

There it is.

Banri raises his hand in a lousy wave as Itaru goes to his room before he opens his phone and checks the game. Still 4 minutes before his own SP fully recharges.

He tosses the phone on the space beside him. Leaning his arm on the couch, he places his cheek on his fist and furrows his brows.

People watching, huh? It’s true that his role was easier to portray since it feels like Luciano is tailored to him somehow. Guess Tsuzuru’s pretty good with his stuff.

Bah. He should really apologize for his shitty behavior.

.

.

.

**Three.**

Hell is finally over.

And by that, Tenma means Summer Troupe’s practice.

“We’re stopping here today,” Izumi says. “Good work, guys! I’ll have to go first since I’ll be helping Omi-kun with dinner tonight. See you later!”

Izumi leaves the room as Tenma stretches his arms. “Good work,” he says. He’s honestly tired with all the practices and filming piling up so, “No meeting today.”

He starts to walk toward the door, half-expecting the others to follow suit, but he stops when he hears a thud. He turns around and sees Kazunari sitting on the floor, doing something on his phone with Muku leaning over him.

Tenma catches Yuki’s eyes and raises a brow, but the other just shrugs. Asking Misumi is not included in his options either.

“Oi Kazunari, Muku. What are you doing?”

“Tenten! We’re looking for some deco! Gotta make it like BAM!, ya know?”

“No, I don’t,” Tenma snaps. “Deco?”

Yuki hums. “That’s right. It’s Villager C’s birthday soon. Why do we need to put in effort for that guy?”

“Yukki, harsh! Tsuzuroon deserves some love, too!”

“B-Besides, Banri-san offered to pay for it all!” Muku adds.

Tenma blinks. “Banri-san did?”

“And Itaroon, too,” Kazunari says, but Tenma ignores that because what the hell? Banri-san’s flexing his money like that?

“I’ll pay for it too.”

They all look at him with various degrees of surprise. Tenma bristles. “What? I _can_ pay for it. I have more money than that guy.”

“Haah? Are you stupid?” Yuki gives him a leveled look. “If this is just because of the April Fool’s prank, it’s your fault anyway. You actually believed that.”

“I-I wasn’t fooled, okay?!”

“No one believes you, stupid. What a hack.”

“Stop calling me a hack!”

“You guys are still as cute as ever,” Kazunari interjects. “But no need, Tenten! Ban-chan and Itaroon’s sponsoring us, sure, but we’re not gonna go super all out because Frooch will kill us!”

“Ne ~ We should give Tsuzuru a gift.” As per damn usual, Tenma doesn’t know how Misumi’s thought process works.

“That’s a good idea!” Muku clasps his hands in front of his chest. His eyes are literally _shining_ that Tenma has to squint to see through it. “Summer Troupe should give him something special!”

Kazunari looks back at Muku and grins. “Told ya I already have my own gift, but I’ll join!” He winks.

“We should give Tsuzuru an Ultra Mr. Triangle!”

Tenma’s brow twitches. “What would he even use it for?!”

“Ehhhhh? Then, three Ultra Mr. Triangles!”

“You just added two more!” 

“Why not make it five? I can help you make more Ultra Mr. Triangles, Sumi!”

“Sure ~”

“Wait, stop!” Tenma throws his hands out in an attempt to physically stop the madness going on, because why is he the leader of this group again?

Ah, right, because he’s the best.

Yuki sighs. “You are all idiots. If we’re done here, I’m going first.”

“But Yuki-kun,” Muku says, “we haven’t decided on a present yet.”

“Again, do we need to? Let this shitty actor buy whatever then, if he’s so rich.”

“I said stop calling me that!”

Kazunari hums again. “I don’t think that’d work. Tsuzuroon doesn’t really like expensive gifts, ya know?”

“You’re spending money on decorations.”

“Not gifts!”

Misumi smiles and nods. “Tsuzuru works hard! He made us a very funny script!”

“Now that I think about it, there are five of you guys that are doing other works too, right?” Muku faces Yuki. “You make our costumes, Kazu-kun is in charge of design, Omi-san is our photographer, and Sakyo-san is our… um, financial advisor. And of course, Tsuzuru-san, who writes the scripts,” Muku says, ticking off one finger at each name.

Yuki doesn’t reply right away. He just stares at them in this creepy way of staring that he does.

“Ma and Villager C cook, too. It’s all because of them that we don’t have curry in our blood yet,” Yuki mumbles after a while. He sighs. “I guess it won’t be bad to make him feel like a main character once in a while, even though he is a Villager C. So? What should we give him?”

Yuki joins the others on the floor while Tenma continues to stand, frozen in place. Earlier, he offered to pay just because he didn’t want to be upped by Banri. It took him Muku and Yuki’s comments to remember that this isn’t a competition. It’s literally a _celebration_ for their playwright.

Their playwright, who looked at them when they said that they all wanted to be main leads and, without any judgments, simply said, “Okay.”

Their playwright, who made good on his declaration and wrote a story that let them all shine on the stage. On the same stage that Tenma used to fear. The stage where Tenma is Ali Baba, having fun with Scheherazade, with Sinbad, with Aladdin, with the Genie…

Because of the funny, actually pretty good script.

Written by Tsuzuru. Their playwright.

He feels like an asshole.

Nah, he probably is one.

Tenma walks over to them and plops down. He brings up one of his knees and props his elbow on it. Smushing his face on his palm, he says, “How about something personalized? A hoodie?”

Yuki raises an eyebrow at him. “Why are you gracing us with your presence now, God’s gift to acting?”

“Shut up!” He feels the tip of his ears burning. “I’m the leader, so I should manage it if you guys are planning something, all right?”

“Hmm. If you say so.”

Tenma clears his throat. “What are your ideas?”

“I think a personalized hoodie is a good idea!” Muku says. “We can add badges!”

“A triangle badge!”

“That’s doable,” Yuki agrees. “We can find a cheap one in the surplus shop and improve it.”

Kazunari nods eagerly. “Oh! Like what you did for the costumes of Autumn Troupe, right? Yay! Not pricey, too! A+ idea, Yukki!”

“Oi, oi,” Tenma says. “I’m the one who said that idea!”

“Triangle patches!”

“When are you going to the shop, Yuki-kun? I can go with you!”

“How about we go tomorrow after school?”

“Mukkun, Yukki, GL! Yukki, LMK your plans, ok? Our combo’s gonna be so epic!”

Tenma changes his position to sit cross-legged instead. Leaning back on his hands, he stares at the ceiling and huffs.

“Shitty actor. You’re helping me sew.”

“What?!” Tenma sits up straight and looks at him. “Why the hell?!”

Yuki simply raises a brow. “Isn’t it _your_ idea?”

He opens his mouth to complain but decides against it at the last second. “Fine. Whatever.” Tsuzuru-san better not complain if he does a shitty work at it. It’s the thought that counts and all that, right?

.

.

.

**Four.**

“The lead is obviously new. His eyes keep on darting around,” Tasuku says.

Tsumugi nods in agreement as he opens the door to the dorms. “Still, you can see how he enjoys acting. He has good chemistry with the other actors, too.”

“Not saying he doesn’t.”

Tasuku abruptly stops walking just before they step foot in the courtyard, and Tsumugi follows suit. He tilts his head. “Tasuku?”

“Is that Sakyo-san?” He inclines his head forward.

Tsumugi follows his gaze. Oh, it _is_ Sakyo-san. What is he doing out here? And… “Why does he look so stressed?”

“I don’t think I want to know.”

Tsumugi side-eyes him before walking toward the Autumn Troupe member. He hears Tasuku sigh, followed by the sound of footsteps behind him. Tsumugi chuckles lightly. It’s not like there is any other way to get to their room.

Unless you’re Misumi-kun, Tsumugi supposes.

When he is a few feet closer to Sakyo, he realizes what causes him to frown like that.

Or rather, who.

“Um, is that Tsuzuru-kun on the floor?”

Sakyo furrows his brows and massages his temple. “I’m not sure why he’s even here outside in the first place.” He nudges Tsuzuru with his foot, but the man doesn’t move an inch. “He’s not waking up.”

“Maybe don’t kick him like that?” Tasuku says, exasperated. He bends down to pick Tsuzuru up and moves him to one of the chairs. Tsumugi knows that Tasuku’s a fitness buff since they were young, but it’s still interesting to see him pick a grown man like nothing, even if it’s quite a usual sight to see nowadays.

Based on the look in Sakyo’s face, Tsumugi knows he’s not the only one impressed.

“He’s light.” Tasuku frowns. “Is he eating properly?”

“We live together. Shouldn’t you also know that?” Sakyo replies in his usual gruff tone. “But yes, I believe he’s eating properly. Though he keeps overexerting himself.”

Tsumugi is about to voice out his own concerns when Azuma approaches them.

“Oh? You’re here. Welcome back, you two,” Azuma greets. After they nod back at him, he turns to Sakyo. “And hello, Sakyo-kun. Are we still pushing through later?”

“Of course. Unless you are planning to leave that 13-year-old wine to me.”

Azuma brings a hand to his mouth and chuckles. He looks at Tsumugi, but Tsumugi beats him to it. “I hope you two enjoy later.”

“A rejection before I can even invite you, or a throwaway line so I will not feel bad for not inviting you. Either way, Tsumugi is really very perceptive.”

Tsumugi blinks, and then, smiles. “Azuma-san is very perceptive, too.”

“Hey,” Tasuku chimes in, putting a hand on his hip. “Do you think I should just bring him back to his room? My body hurts just looking at him.”

As if on cue, they both look at Tsuzuru, who is doing a good impression of the fallen stickman on a "Slippery When Wet" sign.

Sakyo nods. “That’s probably for the best.”

“Did Tsuzuru pass out again?” Azuma asks as Tasuku picks Tsuzuru up and throws him over his shoulders. Still no sign of movement from their playwright. “He’s really Sleeping Prince #2. Good thing you are already used to this, no?”

Tasuku sighs. “I shouldn’t even be.”

“I’m quite worried for his skin if he keeps this up.”

“Well, he always has an unstable sleep pattern. He had late night shifts back in the gas station we used to work at,” Tasuku says. He gives them a nod. “Bye. Tsumugi, I’ll head straight to our room after this.”

“Okay. See you.”

Sakyo sits at the now-empty chair and massages his temple again. “Right. He used to juggle a lot of part-time jobs.” He narrows his eyes. “Used to, I hope. If I find out that he’s doing more work on top of practicing and writing, not to mention his studies…”

Tsumugi lets out a nervous laugh as he pulls out a chair and sits down, the “don’t worry” stuck in his throat when he realizes that he isn’t sure either.

Azuma also sits down and puts his hair over one shoulder to avoid placing it between his back and the chair. “He mentioned needing money last month. I offered to introduce him to my previous job, but he refused,” he says, concern etched on his face. “I never got the chance to talk to him again, so I wonder if he picked up another part-time job?”

Sakyo sighs. “I understand that he has this ‘big brother’ role going on, but hopefully he remembers that he’s not even part of the five oldest in the entire company.”

Tsumugi nods in agreement and ignores Azuma’s knowing smile, knowing that he will also end up smiling if he does so. “Yes. Everyone in Winter Troupe can be his older brother. I wish he’d rely on us more.”

Someone opens the door. “Tsumugi-san? Ah, Sakyo-san and Azuma-san are here, too.”

The three of them turn their heads and see Sakuya, who is still in his school uniform.

“Welcome home, Sakuya-kun,” Tsumugi says, already feeling lighter. The Spring Troupe leader is truly a breath of fresh air just by existing. “Were you looking for me?”

Sakuya adjusts the straps of his backpack. “Um, I wanted to ask something about my homework, but I can come back later! You seem to be talking about something serious.”

“Actually, perfect timing, Sakuma. Come sit.”

Tsumugi feels bad at how fast Sakuya’s face drained at Sakyo’s tone, but he throws him a smile to reassure him.

Azuma smiles, too, but Tsumugi can see that it just had the opposite effect.

“Umm…” Sakuya removes his bag before sitting down. He places it on his lap and continues to fiddle with the straps. “What is it?”

“How is Minagi doing?”

Sakuya pauses. He tilts his head. “Tsuzuru-kun?”

“Takato just brought him to his room. I found him on the floor here earlier.”

For the second time that day, Tsumugi hears the question, “Did Tsuzuru-kun pass out again?”

“Yes. I think that as the leader—”

“I promise to do better and take care of Tsuzuru-kun!”

Tsumugi thinks that Sakyo is a man who hates being interrupted, but he understands that it’s hard to be mad when Sakuya is standing up and looking determined.

“Tsuzuru-kun has done so much for me, so I vow to do better, to do my best as the leader of Spring Troupe!” He shakes his head. “No, not just that. I want to be reliable in any way that I can.”

Sakuya… is really something else. The young man keeps on telling Tsumugi that he looks up to him, but while Sakuya can perhaps learn theater-related things from him, Tsumugi can learn how to be a _kinder person_ from him.

Tsumugi vows to do his best, too. Not just to become a better actor and a better leader, but also to become a better friend to everyone in the company.

Tsuzuru should be able to consult him about everything and not just about screenplays. For starters… they are planning a birthday celebration for him, aren’t they?

.

.

.

**Five.**

“Guys, show time in a few! Massu just DM’ed me that they’re almost done!”

Omi continues to cook as the others scramble to move to their positions. And by others, he meant mostly the students; the Winter Troupe members continue to quietly stand at the corner and observe, aside from Hisoka who is sleeping on the couch. Beside him is Itaru on his phone. Gaming, most likely.

Sakuya and Citron rush to the middle of the lounge, holding a large banner that says, “Happy Birthday, Tsuzuru!” while Misumi is holding triangular flags with a wide grin.

“Oi, Ikaruga. Get off the table,” Sakyo says.

Misumi pouts but follows nonetheless, looking like a dejected puppy while doing so. “Yes ~”

Muku and Taichi are near the door with their hands raised, ready to twist the party poppers. Kazunari is also by the door with a hand and— ah, a cellphone.

“Omi-san.”

Omi looks up. “Oh, Juza. You can start moving the glasses of jelly to the table.”

“Got it.”

He turns to Izumi beside him and offers her a fork with twirled noodles. “Tell me what you think.”

Izumi takes a bite and beams. “Amazing as always, Omi-kun!”

Omi laughs. “Thank you. I hope Tsuzuru likes it, too.”

“Of course he’ll like it! Your own spin of yakisoba is out of this world! Banri-kun, help me with the plates.”

“Mmm.”

Omi turns off the stove and lets Izumi handle the rest. He’s washing his hands when Kazunari shouts, “Fam, they’re crossing the courtyard now!”

Tsuzuru should be arriving anytime so—

A sound of a party popper going off, and then,

“Happy birthday, Tsuzuru!”

Omi checks the door just in time to see Tsuzuru take a step backward, eyes wide and mouth agape. “Wha-what?”

Kazunari continues to take a picture—or a video, Omi’s not really sure—as he laughs and grabs Tsuzuru’s arm to drag him toward the couch. Homare opens a bag of marshmallows, and Hisoka automatically moves toward it, just in time before Tsuzuru is made to sit in the space he vacated.

The others start to circle the celebrant. Omi hears him say how it “was absolutely unnecessary,” but everyone is against it. The resolution of the Spring Troupe’s leader is clear in his voice as he says that he “absolutely deserves it.”

He starts to help Izumi transfer the yakisoba to a bigger plate when Masumi approaches them.

“Izumi,” he says, “I successfully kept Tsuzuru in our room. We cleaned it, too.”

“Oh, good work, Masumi!”

“Where’s my reward?”

“Listen, I already told you this before, but there’s no reward.”

Masumi frowns. “But Izumi—”

_POP!_

Izumi jumps, Masumi’s frown deepens, and Omi’s hand subconsciously moves to his back pocket, only to grab nothing but air.

Someone screams.

“Oh, sorry!” Citron’s accent fills the air after a short silence. “Muku’s party popper did not work earlier, but I wanted to chop an arm since it will be a waste, ne?”

Omi’s sure that wasn’t what Citron wanted to say, so he waits for—

“It’s _chance_ an arm,” Itaru says.

—the translation, and then for—

“Seriously. Be careful. That can turn motivational to gory in an instant,” Tsuzuru says.

—the swift retort. He chuckles. Spring Troupe is really amusing to watch.

“I-I’m sorry,” Muku says. “This is all my fault. I can’t even be trusted to handle small things like this. I’m really a good-for-nothing who is no better than a cockroach dying on the floor after being crushed by a giant’s foot.”

“No one’s saying that. Also, gross,” Yuki says. One thing led to another, and somehow, they are all ganging up on Tenma, who is apparently the one that screamed earlier.

“Hey. Umm.”

Everyone stops what they’re doing and turns to Tsuzuru. He’s scratching the back of his neck, not looking at any of them, before he sighs. He leans back on the couch and places an arm over his eyes.

The silence only lasted for a second before hushed conversations break out. From his position, Omi can hear the Winter Troupe actors clearly.

“Is Tsuzuru-kun okay?” Tsumugi asks. “What if he passed out again?”

He has already taken two steps forward when Azuma uncrosses his hands to touch his shoulder and shakes his head.

“Just let him be,” Tasuku says. Tsumugi furrows his brows but nods and goes back closer to the wall.

The food is served and the plates are prepared, but Tsuzuru is still not moving.

Then, a sniff.

“OMG! Are ya cryin’, Tsuzuroon?”

Like a bubble burst, everyone starts talking at the same time. Omi catches bits of it—

_(“You’re crying? Gross.” “Yuki-chan, it’s totally normal to cry!”)_

_(“Tsuzuru! Here’s an Ultra Mr. Triangle to cheer you up!”)_

_(“Wow. A special event.” “Looks like you’ll unlock the special route anyway, huh.”)_

_(“Turquoise… like the sound of bells on a stormy night. Ahh… Tranquility, Butterflies… Tiramisu!”)_

_(“Too many people in here. I’ll be in the courtyard. Yukishiro.” “Yes, I’ll call you once we open it.”)_

_(“Omi-san. When are we eating the pudding?”)_

Juza is looking at him and Omi clears his throat. “Let’s have the birthday celebrant taste it first, okay?”

Omi walks to the couch. “Tsuzuru, happy birthday. I prepared your favorite yakisoba, as well as tonkatsu, croquette, and temaki sushi. There are also cranberry jelly and custard pudding for dessert. You should eat first.”

Tsuzuru raises his other hand and makes a vague hand gesture that somehow Omi understood to be _“nah it’s okay you go first,”_ but Omi grabs the hand to pull him up instead.

His eyes are red and teary, but no tears actually fall.

Omi pauses, and so does everyone else. Again. Tsuzuru looks down.

Well, they’ll never get to Kazunari’s games at this rate. Omi tugs at Tsuzuru’s hand. “You’re hungry after cleaning your room, right? Come on. Let’s eat.”

Their playwright nods and quietly lets himself be pulled by Omi. He makes the younger sit at the head of the table, and the rest of the Spring Troupe occupy the empty chairs.

Izumi brings out the cake and places it in the middle of the table. It’s an angel cake with strawberries at the top, along with numbered candles, 1 and 9. It’s not perfect, but Omi’s proud of it. It’s a collaborative work, after all.

“Happy birthday, Tsuzuru-kun!” Izumi claps. “Let’s all sing together!”

Tsuzuru flails his hand in front of him. "Stop, stop! It’s okay! I get it!”

“No! Let us sing for you— wait, Juza-kun, don’t eat the dessert yet!”

Taichi, who was cleaning the colorful confetti after Sakyo ordered him to do so on his way out, comes to the table. “Oh, is it time to eat? Happy birthday, Tsuzuru-kun!” He grabs a plate. “Itadakimasu!”

“Wait, guys, stop— you know what, never mind.” Izumi sighs and grabs a plate instead, throwing Tsuzuru a defeated look, who only nods and smiles in return.

Omi grabs his own plate and moves toward the kitchen counter to lean on it. He notices that Tsuzuru still hasn’t put food on his plate as he chats with Citron, who is seated nearest him, so he straightens up to fix that.

But Sakuya stands and starts putting food on Tsuzuru’s plate, saying something about health. Omi smiles and goes back to leaning on the counter.

They all can’t fit in the dining table, so the others grab food and either sit on the couch or stand. Omi roams his eyes, watching their reactions to the food, from Tasuku at the corner of the room, to the middle school students on the couch, to the leaders on the table, and finally—

To Tsuzuru, who seems to be observing the others as well. _What is he thinking?_ Omi wonders. _What does he see that helps him create characters and write stories?_

Their eyes meet, and Tsuzuru raises an eyebrow. It’s the “seriously?” look that he gives him whenever the class needs a replacement model asap and Omi just somehow _always_ finds Tsuzuru on campus during his free time.

Omi raises his shoulders and grins. “Happy birthday,” he mouths at him.

Tsuzuru sighs and places a hand across his face, shaking his head.

It doesn’t hide his smile.

Omi wishes he has his camera on him.

.

.

.

.

.

**\+ One.**

Tsuzuru ends the call after thanking his siblings for their ever-enthusiastic greetings and giving Kaoru a few reminders, sighing after he hears another crack while stretching his neck. It’s almost midnight and they have finally called it a day. Seriously, it’s a weekday tomorrow. Why did they decide to do this now?

Not that he’s ungrateful. Far from it, really. But still…

It’s quiet in the courtyard. The wind blows, and the breeze is just at the right coolness. Tsuzuru would rather stay a bit and simply enjoy the peace that the plants seem to exude, but there are so many empty bottles, so much _trash_ that Tsuzuru sighs again. Matsukawa looks exhausted that he went to his room early, so Tsuzuru should clean it up.

When he enters the lounge, he sees that Winter Troupe, Sakyo, and Izumi are still drinking on the table. On the couch…

Tsuzuru walks toward Sakuya and shakes him gently. “Sakuya? You should go back to your room.”

“Mmmm…”

“Sakuya.”

Sakuya slowly opens his eyes. “Tsuzuru-kun? Ah, I fell asleep.”

“You should go back to your room. Do you want me to bring you there?”

He shoots up and shakes his head violently, red hair swaying with the movement. “No, no! I’m okay. Um, happy birthday again, Tsuzuru-kun! I will forever cherish our first script. Thank you for believing in me! I can’t wait to see more of what you will write for us!”

It was just his job, just like how Sakuya’s job is to lead them. Tsuzuru rubs the back of his neck. “Thanks, leader.”

Sakuya nods with an uncharacteristically serious look on his face before he stands up, bows to the others, and retreats to his room. Tsuzuru stands up to walk toward the kitchen, checking and making sure that all the dishes are washed. He picks up a bowl of leftover yakisoba, finds the cover in one of the cabinets, and puts it in the fridge.

With a hand keeping the fridge open, he peeks at the people drinking and checks their table. Just wine glasses and the bottle of wine that Azuma brought—another expensive one from his previous client, he said. Tsuzuru grabs a pitcher of water before closing the fridge. He approaches the others and puts it in the middle of the table before going back to the kitchen and picking up six glasses from the rack, holding three in each hand.

“You’ll have a hangover tomorrow if you don’t properly hydrate,” Tsuzuru explains after Izumi’s questioning look as he places the glasses one by one in front of them.

“It’s really quite a shame that you just turned 19,” Azuma says. “Perhaps you can join us next year, no?”

“Err, yeah, I’m not sure,” Tsuzuru replies in all sincerity, because drinking with Yukishiro-san doesn’t feel like a good idea. Or drinking in general, actually. He saw what happened to drunk people, mostly his upperclassmen in university. Doesn’t seem fun. He always had to take care of them, too.

“Ah! Tsuzuru-kun. Have you seen that?” Tsumugi points to a paper bag on the table. “Tenma-kun told me to give it to you.”

“They could’ve just given it to him themselves earlier,” Tasuku says after taking a swig of water.

“You know how Tenma-kun is.”

Tsuzuru grabs the paper bag and eyes it, noticing the printed logo on the upper-right side. “Hey, hey, this isn’t something expensive, is it?” He notices a card stuck on the bag, so he opens it and reads the letter, written in small, cute handwriting.

_Villager C._

_I’m not giving you a new nickname._

_This is not expensive._

_You’re welcome._

_\- Summer Troupe_

“I know exactly who wrote this,” Tsuzuru mutters. He’s a little scared of what the content could be, to be honest. Summer Troupe can be very _creative_. Not to mention Kazunari, who is apparently the head honcho of tonight’s celebrations.

“Thank you, Tsukioka-san.” Tsuzuru goes to the kitchen to pick up a broom, but Sakyo’s voice stops him in his tracks.

“Where are you going?”

“Err, to the courtyard…?” The glare he receives tells him that it’s the wrong answer.

“Go to sleep. Don’t you have morning classes tomorrow?” Sakyo checks the clock on the wall and clicks his tongue. “ _Later_ , rather.”

If Sakyo says so. Can Tsuzuru really do anything when he’s using That voice? “Um, okay. Good night.”

Izumi raises an eyebrow and smiles teasingly at Sakyo beside her before she turns to Tsuzuru and nods, the smile never leaving her face. “Good night, Tsuzuru-kun. I hope you had fun today.”

“I did. Thank you so much. Good night.”

The others continue their conversation, and Tsuzuru’s about to exit the lounge when he notices Hisoka sway before falling asleep at the table. His usual handler seems to be distracted (and a little emotional?), so Tsuzuru walks back to the couch to grab the communal blanket and places it on Hisoka’s back.

Finally, Tsuzuru walks back to his room, only to pause when he sees a figure beside the door.

“Miyoshi-san?”

Kazunari looks up from his phone and grins at him. He pushes himself off the wall and moves to wrap an arm around his shoulder. He brings up his phone, and Tsuzuru can see his face on it…?

“Smile!”

“Miyoshi-san!” Tsuzuru whispers, remembering that the others should already be asleep.

Kazunari ignores him. His fingers continue to deftly move, eyes glued to his phone. “‘With b-day boy before he goes to sleep. The arts ftw! ☆’ Post!”

“Did you just—?”

“Posted on the Instablam! Been waiting for ya, y’know? Thought you’d be cleanin’ up the mess outside and stuff!”

“That mess was your fault in the first place!” Ugh, wait, why is Tsuzuru insensitive? “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know, I know! Seriously, Tsuzuroon. Chill some more, ok? You’re not alone!”

“… To think that Miyoshi-san is actually acting like a senpai. Wow.”

“And to think that Tsuzuroon is still calling me by my last name. Ouch!”

Tsuzuru ignores that, because it feels like a conversation for another day. “But seriously, shouldn’t you already be asleep? You also have morning classes tomorrow, right?”

“Mmm. Just wanted to see you off!”

“I’m just going to my room.”

“Like, I’m the first and last to greet you, right? Yay! HBD again, Tsuzuroon!”

Tsuzuru simply stares at Kazunari, whose face falls when the silence stretches on far too long.

“Um, Tsuzuroon?”

Tsuzuru shakes his head before placing a hand on Kazunari’s shoulder. “Thank you,” he says, hoping to convey his overwhelming feelings in two words. It doesn’t feel enough. Quite ironic when he’s the one using words to build sentences, to paragraphs, to scenes. When words are supposed to be his greatest weapon.

For now, he settles for a simple, “Good night, Miyoshi-san.”

He squeezes his shoulder once before he enters his room and closes it behind him.

 _Ugh._ No matter how hard he tries, the smile won’t leave his face.

He runs his fingers through his hair and exhales. When his heart finally doesn’t feel like exploding, he walks to his bed, keeping his footsteps silent to not disturb the sleeping Masumi, and places the paper bag from Summer Troupe on his table…

… only to realize that there are three other paper bags there as well. And on the floor, there is… a canvas?

Nope, he can’t handle anymore tonight. Nope. He didn’t see anything. He’s not gonna turn that painting around and check it yet. _Nope!_

Tsuzuru pretends that they are all just figments of his imagination and heads straight to the bed, falling on it face first. He brings out his phone from his pocket and opens the clock app.

Clean the courtyard. Maybe help Fushimi-san cook. They can prepare lunch boxes for the students, and maybe prepare something for the others in case they still end up with hangovers.

From 6:00 AM, he changes his alarm to… will 5 be okay? Hmm. Didn’t Arisugawa-san mention needing to go to his publisher at 5 before all the games began that he said he wouldn’t join but ended up playing a weird version of The Game of Life against Citron-san? And earlier, he’s a little…

4:00 AM should be good. He can wake up Arisugawa-san just in case, too.

_3 hours, 48 minutes left until the next alarm_

Tsuzuru chuckles, placing his phone beside him, and goes to sleep. What’s a few hours of sleep for his family? Nothing new.

**Author's Note:**

> One day, I will write a more serious ~~possibly angst~~ fic about Tsuzuru’s traits that are stated or implied here, but today is not that day.
> 
> Also, I’m not gonna juggle 10+ characters, much less 20, at once ever again. Dammit. 😭😭
> 
> Kudos and comments—short or long, coherent or incoherent, actual words or keyboard smashes—are much appreciated! You can also find me screaming at the void on Twitter: [@rinkaisha_](https://twitter.com/rinkaisha_/). Thank you for reading, and maybe see you in the next ones! ก็็็็็็็็็็็็็ʕ•͡ᴥ•ʔ ก้้้้้้้้้้้


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